


Frustration

by Amethyst97Skye



Series: Dragon Age One-Shots [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Frustration, Logic, Reader-Insert, Sexual Frustration, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst97Skye/pseuds/Amethyst97Skye
Summary: The Warden is getting on Sten's nerves. When the rest of their companions retire for the night, and they are left alone on watch, he addresses their mutual... frustration.





	

“ _Parshaara_ ,” Sten growled, setting aside his whetstone to sheath Asala with such fluid grace you believed it beyond even Leliana's command.

In reply to having earn your undivided attention, he said: “Your frustration is grating, Warden.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks but, rooted to the stop, defiant to the last, you refused to look away.

“It’s not directed at you.”

Sten was a proud animal. Only the keenest of eyes could discern when, and how, the tension eased from his body. Even then, one could not be certain. To you, in that moment, he seemed relieved. He would not ask, nor would he pry, so you elaborated because, unlike the others, he would not laugh.

“It’s directed at myself.”

Sten shook his head gravely, at once both impressed and disappointed. “You have led us thus far, _Kadan_. You will lead us to _anaan_.”

You inclined your head, as one should whenever receiving praise from a Qunari, and after briefly deliberating your situation you stood to join him, bringing with you the tunic you were in the process of mending.

“That’s only part of the problem,” you admitted.

“It is not the source of your frustration.”

It was not a question, but you nodded anyway, a slow, single dip of your head. An affirmation required nothing more. You paused, searching for the right words, ultimately setting down your sewing with a sigh. Sten had not returned to oiling Asala. You swallowed something hard and uncomfortable, unsure whether he would think less of you if you told him the truth. He had, however, been brutally honest with you, and much had happened since your first met the giant's eyes in Lothering.

“I require the equivalent of a _Tamassran_.”

Sten hummed, as was his way when he understood, but did not possess the Common equivalent of the words required to succinctly express his thoughts. When he offered nothing further, you broke the silence.

“I haven’t sufficient... experience to tend the matter myself. Not... effectively.”

“The assassin would best serve that purpose.”

“It'd go right to his head!" you cried. "And Zevan's... He'd make too much out of -" A poignant pause. "I want to scratch an itch I can’t reach. That's it, nothing more,” you snapped, glaring at your tunic as if it had personally offended you.

“Then you intend to rectify the matter in Denerim. The assassin has spoken of such establishments.”

“It’s my only option,” you groused.

“…But you will not use it.”

“No, I won’t. I'm a Warden. Even if I went in disguise, my identity might be revealed and I'd shame all of us. Besides, those… talented in such matters have questionable health, and I can’t risk being infected.”

Sten’s lips drew into a frown.

“Diseases can be transmitted through sex,” you explained, matter-of-factly.

A flash of… fear whitened his eyes. You pretended not to notice. It was not your place to judge, or assume.

“The potions Wynne makes can cure us, as can her magic – she would've told us otherwise –” You were not looking at him, absorbed as you were with your sewing, trying not to prick your fingers, but you could _feel_ the tension drain from his muscles. It made you shiver. “– but we're low on supplies, and I can’t justify wasting them," you declared, shuffling back towards the fire.

“It would be beneficial for future battles,” Sten reasoned.

“If I keep myself busy, I won’t think about what I can't have. Wardens are basically infertile, but they _can_ have children, and while it _is_ rare, I can’t risk something so... I can't do something so... Not in the middle of a blight.”

“Is there not a lower fertility rate between different species?”

Your scoff was drowned by the crackling fire. “Yes, but many elves have given born to elf-blooded humans, and I'm _never_ letting Oghren anywhere _near_ me!”

Sten did not reply immediately.

“Then it is decided.”

You blinked, looking up from your finished tunic. “It is?”

“After my watch, we will quell your frustrations.”

You stared. Surely he was joking. “You’re not a _Tamassran_ , Sten! And I won’t treat you like one. It's not the end of the world, I'll survive.”

“Distraction is dangerous. You have lost your _aqun_.”

You looked away, unable to argue.

For a time, neither of you spoke until you murmured, “I heard it hurts the first time. When you... you know.”

“Do you trust me, _Kadan_?”

“With my life,” you replied, without hesitation. 

He already had his _asala_ , he did not need another.

He did not _need_ it, nor, perhaps, did he _want_ it, but you were willing to give it regardless.

He stared at you, his face suddenly very... soft, softer than you had ever seen. “Then it is decided," he said, with a bow of his head, removing his whetstone once more.

“Sten -”

You froze. _Thank you_ did not translate into Qunlat, and calling him _Kadan_  felt... wrong. As if reading your mind, he nodded, and you returned the gesture before busying yourself with the laundry. It would be a while before his watch ended. Asala would keep him company.

“I’ll wait by the stream,” you declared, departing for the treeline with slow strides as you practised Alistair's breathing exercises.

**Author's Note:**

> Parshaara - "Enough".  
> Sten - Infantry platoon commander.  
> Asala - Soul.  
> Kadan - "the center of the chest"; "where the heart lies"; friend; an all-purposeword for a "person one cares about".  
> Qunari - People of the Qun.  
> Anaan - Victory.  
> Aqun - Balance.  
> Tamassran - "Those who speak".  
> Qunlat - Language of the Qun.
> 
> This is my first Reader-Insert. Kudos, comments and constructive criticism is always appreciated. Let me know if there are any tags you want me to add.


End file.
